


It's A Stancest!

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Just to warn you all, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orgasm Denial, Prostitution, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Tentacle Sex, Threesome, also these are all very short, not all warnings apply to all ficlets of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: Fills for the Stancest Bingo card made by fishingboatblues. Ratings vary.





	1. What If

**Author's Note:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Bill Ex Machina.

After Ford tells Bill about Stan, Bill develops a brief interest in being a peacemaker.

“What if I brought him to you right now?” Bill snaps his fingers, and for a moment Ford can’t breathe; when the world remains gray and nothing wakes him up, Ford feels-

“I honestly don’t know.” It’s true: he feels disappointment and relief, but he doesn’t know which feeling is stronger. And if Stan was standing there-

“But I’d like to decide that myself, whether to bring him over or not.”

“Would you ever, though?”

Ford doesn’t answer. He doesn’t stop thinking about it, either.


	2. Good Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Aus where Ford doesn’t fall into the portal.
> 
> Note: Based on the 'Better World' scenario from Journal 3.

Ford gets Stan to leave, eventually. It’s the undisguised, relief-soaked joy that spreads over Ford’s face over Stan’s false promise to do so that makes Stan cave in for real.

“You are doing a favor of a lifetime to the universe, Stan,” Ford tells him as Stan gets into his car, stroking the cover of his journal for one final time before letting Stan close the door. “It’s all going to work out now, I promise.”

Stan doesn’t know about that, but he says nothing as he starts the car and drives away.

It takes him facing Rico and his goons again and various other torments until he’s able to get on a boat and do the one thing that will make Ford proud of him, watching as the journal is swallowed by the salty waters. It takes him few more days to be able to call Ford about it.

Hearing Ford let out a long, shuddering gasp, as if years of pain have suddenly come to an end for him, almost makes it worth it.

“Thank you, Stanley.”

Even as Ford hangs up on him, it’s almost worth it.


	3. Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Daddy Issues.
> 
> Notes: Reference to child abuse.

Ford has almost fallen asleep by the time Stan returns.

“How was it?” He feels it’s his duty to ask, even though the way Stan quickly walks to his bed and lies down on his stomach is enough of an answer. Stan doesn’t look at him when he replies:

“The usual.”

‘The usual’ means it was fast and stinging, that beneath Stan’s pyjamas his ass is hot and pink, but not bruised. Sensitive, but not so sensitive it can’t be touched. Ford knows that from experience.

He doesn’t know what it would feel like to touch Stan.

“Okay,” he says.


	4. My Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Threesome with alternate selves.
> 
> Notes: Old!Ford/Old!Stan/Young!Stan threesome. Vague D/s undertones.

_Have I always been like that?_ Stan wonders.

As he watches his younger self with Ford, the answer becomes quickly clear. Young Stan closes his eyes and trembles at the first contact of Ford’s large palm on his cheek, resting his hand on Ford’s wrist very lightly, like Ford is the one close to breaking. When Ford cups the young man’s face and draws him near, Stan feel a tremble starting deep inside him as well.

Yes, then. So maybe there’s a better question: is Ford aware of the power he has?

As he watches his younger self melt in Ford’s arms and his brother’s eyes slide shut with pleasure, Stan reaches the same conclusion.


	5. Loose Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Accidental confession.

Ford is a lightweight in general, but for some reason regular wine goes to his head faster than anything else. He always forgets about it too, which is dangerous.

“Siblings? Yeah, a brother,” he tells to his college friends as they sit in the bar together, reminiscing over their families. He regrets answering as soon as the words are out, feeling as the wave of memories is about to wash over him. “We are estranged.”

“Sorry to hear that,” says Fiddleford, ever the kind one. Others make noises of agreement, and that should be it. That door in his mind should close again, Ford should focus on the now. He smiles and waves Fiddleford’s words away.

“It happens.” What he shouldn’t do is depend on more liquid comfort, but he finds himself taking another sip of wine anyway. “How about you, Fiddleford?”

“Me? Well,” Fiddleford replies, cheerful grin rising on his face as he starts to take over the conversation, “I don’t have any siblings, but boy do I have cousins I could tell stories abou-”

“I miss him.”

He always forgets. Fiddleford and the rest of the group eye him in discomfort until someone finally picks up another topic.


	6. A Fix-It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Mabel Ex Machina.

Blendin agrees to lend his time machine to Mabel, but he insists on coming with her. It’s an acceptable compromise.

“This is not going to change anything in our timeline, you know,” Blendin says they work on Grunkle Ford’s machine together; Blendin has a lot of useful skills and she’s increasingly grateful that he was so determined to join her. “If this works, it will create a new timeline. Nothing changes in ours.”

“I know,” Mabel says, although she didn’t; she swallows her disappointment. “But maybe things will work out for them in this one.”

That’s an acceptable compromise, too.


	7. Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Amnesiac Stan hitting on Ford.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Is this the day? Ford puts the newspaper down and looks at Stan, who is sipping his coffee with a grin. His expression is jovial, to the point Ford should probably be suspicious about it. “Noticed what?”

Stan chuckles. “I think you know.” He puts his mug down, leaning his elbows against the table as he continues to smile at Ford. “It’s the stares, Ford. Those long, long stares when it’s just the two of us. You know because I’ve caught you so many times.”

Ford blushes. He knows; it’s a habit born partially out of fear, of need to make sure that Stan is really there, but most of the time he can’t stop drinking in the sight of his brother. Stan whose memories are lost but who is still himself, still alive. It took some time for Ford to learn to be grateful about that, that he still had this much of Stan instead of losing all of him, and it’s still not easy.

And now the day Ford has feared has come: the day Stan starts questioning him and whether there’s more to his devotion than just brotherly loyalty. Stan has been smiling and laughing so far, but what if it’s all a fro-

“Hey.”

Ford blinks at the warm hand that has settled over his, squeezing him gently. He looks up to see that Stan is still smiling at him, in a softer way now, leaning closer to him on the table.

“I have this feeling I’ve always wanted to say this,” Stan says. There is a playful gleam in his eyes. “Why don’t you come up and see me sometime?”


	8. Art of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Totally platonic bed sharing.
> 
> Note: Smut! Some orgasm denial.

Sometimes, nights are cold in their house. That’s when Stan and Ford bunk together.

Staying quiet is a challenge during those nights.

“F-F-Ford-!” Stan smacks his hand over his mouth, ready to keep the wail in, but Ford chooses not to trust him and pulls away from him. That almost makes Stan whine louder, but he manages to get himself under control just in time.

“Ford.” He and Ford are lying on their sides, face to face, but their bodies are no longer nestled together and Ford is keeping his hands to himself, his face stern. Stan isn’t sure what to do; all this could mean that Ford is finished for the night, or then Ford is waiting to see if Stan can keep his mouth shut. After a moment’s hesitation, Stan flops over to his back, opening his arms to the sides as he waits for Ford’s move.

Ford keeps him waiting for a while before finally moving to loom over him, resting his palm down on Stan’s stomach. Stan wants to hiss at the touch, especially as Ford drags his fingers lower; he bites his lip instead and breathes through his nose, as evenly and steadily as he can.

He closes his eyes when six fingers close around his dick, when Ford straddles him and brings his own cock to rest against Stan’s. Stan gnaws on the insides of his cheeks as he feels himself jerk against Ford’s touch, against his warm, solid cock; how that warm, solid cock twitches against him in return, making it almost impossible to not moan.

But he doesn’t; he reaches out to stroke Ford’s arms, then his chest as Ford leans closer to him. Ford’s mouth falls open when Stan’s fingertips brush over his nipple, but a sharp exhale is all that Stan gets out of him. When Ford starts to stroke his hands up and down their cocks, Stan tries to take his hands down there too, to touch Ford, but Ford chooses to distract him by kissing him. Of course it works; Stan parts his lips beneath Ford’s immediately, sucking his tongue in, his hands rising up to grip Ford from the hair as they begin to thrust against each other.

Holding back from making sound is getting more and more difficult, but Ford gives him incentives to do so by stopping all his movements the moment a tiniest whine escapes from him. It’s kind of unfair, the way Ford gets to tease him while Stan has to lie there and take it, but he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t also love being at the mercy of his nerd.

When he comes, it takes biting his arm to keep the sound down, but at least this is where Ford meets him the halfway, latching his mouth on Stan’s neck and pressing down as he milks out his own climax. Ford doesn’t try to stop Stan from wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. They both know it’s dangerous to be found like this; no amount of cold explains this kind of an embrace. Still, there they remain.


	9. I Will Remember You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Angry pre-Weirdmageddon sex.

There are times when Stan wants nothing more than to stop loving Ford.

Ford won’t let him. At nights, after the kids have gone to bed, Ford is there when Stan retires to his room. He never says anything; the moment the door closes Stan is pinned against it, and Ford stares him deep in the eyes before kissing him. Every night Stan fantasizes about turning Ford away; every night Ford’s touch makes him forget. When Ford tosses him on the bed like he weighs nothing, like he is nothing, all he wants to do is pull Ford on top of him as quickly as possible.

It’s disgusting, really.

But as long as Ford comes to him, Stan doesn’t want to stop. As long as Ford climbs upon him as fast as he can, like he needs to keep Stan from escaping, and grips him from his hair like he needs to be held still, Stan doesn’t want to forget how it feels like to love Ford. He doesn’t want to forget how much it’s going to hurt when he’s sent away from the Shack, the thought of not being wanted by his brother as unbearable now as it was many years ago.

Stan could stop loving Ford, if only Ford let him. He hopes that Ford never will.


	10. Recurring Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Mutual pining.
> 
> Notes: Contains Jimstan (with nice Jimmy, too).

“What are you thinking about?”

Jimmy Snakes isn’t the kind of guy to get all soft and mushy. Yet whenever he’s with Stan Pines, that’s how he feels inside, and worst of all, he doesn’t even mind feeling that way. There has to be medicine for that, he believes, but now Stan is in his arms and Jimmy has no interest in finding one.

“Huh? Strange, usually nothing’s going on here.” Stan shrugs and Jimmy can’t help but laugh, even though he’s aware that Stan also just dodged his question. “It wasn’t probably anything interesting, anyway,” Stan babbles on, snuggling closer to him as he rests his head on Jimmy’s chest.

Jimmy doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t push it, enjoying the feeling of Stan’s full, soft body in his lap. He has noticed that Stan tends to fall into these strange, dark moods every now and then; especially right after they’ve had sex. Like he’s thinking of an ex-lover. Jimmy can understand that, and soft and mushy feelings or not, he doesn’t take it personally; he knows that what they have is a fling and not a grand romance. But whenever Stan feels like elaborating on these moods, his answer always confuses Jimmy.

“Just thinking about my brother,” is what Stan says.

*

“What are you thinking about?”

Fiddleford likes Ford, he really does. He just wishes the guy would let loose every once in a while; they’re at a party now and all Ford has done is sit in the corner, trying his best to keep his hands out of sight and sipping his drink. Fiddleford sat down with him eventually to keep him company, but even though he isn’t exactly a social butterfly himself, he would like to mingle a little. But he doesn’t like doing it alone.

“Hmm?” Fiddleford is pretty sure that Ford acknowledged his presence earlier, but now he’s blinking at Fiddleford in confusion, like he’s seeing him for the first time for the whole night. Fiddleford resists the urge to shake his head and asks:

“You’re off in your own world again, Ford. I was just wondering what’s on your mind.”

He doesn’t really expect an answer. The outcome Fiddleford is hoping for is that Ford will finally get out of his head and join Fiddleford in the party. He doesn’t think it’s likely, but he hopes for it, anyway.

Fiddleford’s hunch turns out to be right, as Ford remains where he is for the rest of the night. But before that, Ford answers his question.

"Just thinking about someone.”


	11. What It's Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Starla breaks up and it leads to incest.
> 
> Warning: Non-graphic first time sex.

_So this is what it was like for Carla,_ Stan thinks.

He is lying on his back while Ford looms over him, and neither of them is sure about what they’re doing. Ford is licking his lips and looking at Stan’s forehead instead of his eyes, and his body feels broad and solid as it settles between Stan’s spread legs. Stan wonders if Carla felt the same way about him when they did it for the first time, if she was slightly afraid of him too, but he doesn’t want to think of her.

_It’s about Ford and me now_ , he decides as he reaches out to rest his palm against Ford’s cheek, making his brother jump slightly at the sudden contact. But the touch seems to reassure Ford, the anxious wrinkles between his eyes smoothing out a little, and Stan smiles to him to encourage that. This is his first time on his back and Ford’s first time altogether and it’s going to be great.

It’s- okay. Thanks to Mom’s hand lotion that they borrowed, it doesn’t hurt as much as Stan expected it to, but just like Stan with Carla, Ford doesn’t have the patience to avoid hastiness yet. Beginner’s roughness, Stan assumes; Stan must have got better with Carla over time, since she kept wanting to do it with him, so maybe Ford will improve in time too. It’s just that-

“I can’t believe we did it,” Ford breathes against his ear as he lies down next to Stan, voicing Stan’s own thoughts. “It was- I liked it, but-”

“I know,” Stan replies. His arm goes around Ford’s shoulders, his hand finding his neck and the curly, sweaty hair there. Even now, being close to his brother soothes him, and he can tell Ford feels the same way. “I know.”

He bets it was nothing like this for Carla.


	12. Settling Debts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Tentacles made them do it.
> 
> Warning: Tentacle sex!

The trick is to stay absolutely still.

It’s all very simple, really. All Stan needs to do is to be here on his hands and knees, buck naked, keep his legs spread and his ass pushed up and wait for the potted plant behind him to come to life. It won’t even matter what the plant will do to him; his debt will be paid off if he goes through with this, and that’s good enough. And if he really thinks about it, this isn’t even the weirdest thing he’s done to get out of trouble. For example that one time in-

“Whoa!” His thoughts are interrupted when something wet and snout-like touches to the back of his leg, moving tentatively up and down along its length. The touch is light and warm, almost nice; yet Stan shudders when the thing, which he knows to be a tentacle, slips between his thighs, rubbing against the soft flesh in a slow, thrusting movement while other tentacles appear, looping around his ankles and calves and further up to hold him still.

He is starting to wonder if he’s still supposed to stay still, now that the plant is awake and moving, when something large and warm settles over the back of his hand; a reminder that he and the tentacle plant aren’t the only living creatures in the room. Deciding it’s better to play it safe, he doesn’t lift his head up, looking down at the six fingers stroking his skin instead.

“You’re doing well, Stan,” Ford says, trying to sound supportive. Stan is impressed with how genuine Ford sounds; he’s sure the last place his brother wants to be in is Gravity Fall’s take on a demonic whorehouse, just so Stan can pay off a debt. Yet once Ford had heard about Stan’s troubles, he had insisted on coming along; just thinking about that overwhelms Stan with affection and gratitude. He wants to thank Ford again for doing this right away, but that’s when the action behind him intensifies.

The tentacles around his legs have draped nearly all the way up to his loins, keeping him steady and still as they spread his legs even wider apart. The tentacle between his legs is rubbing against his genitals, still much like a snout with its wet tip and fuzzy surface, and even though that mental image bothers him a little, he also can’t deny that his dick is busy coming to life between his legs, getting hard and rising to poke at his belly.

Feeling a little embarrassed about that, he’s glad that he can’t see Ford’s face from his position; he has no doubt that his brother is looking at him with disapproval and Stan can’t blame him. However, he can still see the hand that is on top of his, and that hand is speaking a different language; it’s squeezing Stan, the index and middle fingers reaching up to stroke the back of Stan’s wrist, feeling the slim bones beneath the skin and the fine hair covering it. It has to be a comforting gesture, Stan thinks, especially when the tentacle between Stan’s legs pulls away and pushes against his entrance instead.

Ignoring that, Stan speaks up:

“Hey- I’m sorry you have to be here.”

He didn’t intend to be _that_ honest about it, but well, it’s out now. He feels a second hand cup his face, stroke his cheek.

“I’m sorry you have to be here, too,” Ford says. He brushes Stan’s hair away from his face with a solid, warm palm. “It will be all right, Stan.”

Stan is about to say something more, but he blanks out when the tentacle on his ass _splits_ open against him; the sensation almost makes him whip his head around to see what’s happening. As he fights against that reaction, he feels something wet and sinewy come out of the tentacle’s now open head, something he imagines has to be a tongue; it strokes over his asshole a couple of times, getting it slick and wet before it starting to push in.

“Fuck!” It’s not painful but it’s weird; he almost misses it when a new tentacle moves between his thighs, wrapping its soft, fuzzy coils around his still hard dick. He doesn’t miss it when Ford crouches down to take a closer look at what’s happening, leaning on Stan’s shoulder for support. It’s so typically inconsiderate of him that it actually makes Stan relax, which lets the tongue-thing inside his ass to make its way smoothly in before settling against his insides, undulating slightly.

“Watch out,” Stan says to Ford when his arms begin to shake; Ford murmurs an apology and returns to sit in front of Stan, reaching out to rub his shoulders. It feels nice, but not as nice as the tongue-thing does as it starts to press against his insides, against one particular stop that makes Stan’s fingers and toes curl; when he feels something that’s like a mouth settle against his asshole, sucking it, he can’t stop himself from moaning.

“Stan.”

He almost doesn’t hear the breathy whisper, but while he does, he has hard time listening to it as pleasure floods all his senses. The tentacle around his dick is moving too, pumping him with its coils; he discovers this one has a mouth too when he feels it close around the head of his dick, its narrow little tongue swirling against the sensitive flesh in the most delicious way. Stan bites his lips, desperate to keep his back from arching, his hips from bucking-

“Stan.”

He almost misses Ford’s voice again, but he doesn’t miss the hand that slides against his cheek. Stan leans to it, rubbing his face against the rough, calloused skin; when a thumb brushes over his mouth, he freezes first, then parts his lips beneath it, letting it touch to the soft, inner flesh. That makes Ford go still; the whole world seems to go still.

It takes all Stan’s will power to not lift his head to look Ford in the eyes, but to his fortune he doesn’t need to; he feels as Ford pushes his thumb inside his mouth, brushing it over the lower set of his dentures, touching it to his tongue. Stan moans around it, his mouth falling further open, and Ford takes the opportunity to push more fingers into his mouth, stroking his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. Stan closes his mouth around the fingers, sucking them; he feels Ford’s other hand settle on the back of his head, gripping at the hair there, and as the fingers inside his mouth pull back a little and _thrust_ back in, Stan comes.

He is grateful for the support of the tentacles when he feels his body go boneless, his arms giving out on him. Ford is quick to move forward so Stan lands on his lap, both of his hands now on Stan’s head, stroking and soothing him. After the tentacles around his legs withdraw as well, Stan finds himself curled up on the floor, in his brother’s arms, spent and sated.

“I think you owe me something now,” Ford tells him, wiping the drool on Stan’s chin away.

Stan doesn’t think he’ll mind paying off that debt.


	13. Places of Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Comfort incest after teenage bullying.

The library has always been Ford’s sanctuary. It’s one of the few places in Glass Shard Beach where he has always felt welcome, like he belongs there. Now, he feels like he can never step into the place again.

“Newson was there,” he tells Stan as they lie in Stan’s bed together. “Crampelter and the rest of his cronies weren’t, but that didn’t stop him from opening his mouth.”

“That little weasel,” Stan murmurs, running his fingers through Ford’s hair. “You know that guy’s good for nothing, right?”

“Of course.” Rationally, Ford also knows that he can’t stop people he hates from entering the library, no matter how much he thinks the place belongs to him and not to them. He thinks he would have been able to live with yet another Newson insult, learn to deal with him being around if that were to happen. But-

“You know, I couldn’t care less about Newson,” he says. “But the librarians, they were all there. They heard what he said. They did nothing.”

Stan’s fingers go still over that. “Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Ford agrees, squeezing his eyes shut. Doing that doesn’t stop them from feeling hot and wet. “I thought they liked me, Stan.”

Stan doesn’t say anything. Instead, he cups the back of Ford’s head with his broad hand and leans in to kiss him softly on the lips. The first kiss is followed by small, light ones on Ford’s closed eyelids, on the delicate skin beneath his eyes, on his temples. When Ford opens his eyes, Stan is about to kiss him on the mouth again, and he closes his eyes again to let that happen.

“Not that I don’t like this,” he says after Stan pulls away, “but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

He opens his eyes again, just in time to see Stan frown. “Not even a little bit?”

Ford thinks about it. “Well, a little.”

“See? I know what works.” Stan wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “If they don’t like you there, then they’re stupid. They can hang around with Newson and Crampelter if they like them so damn much.”

Ford can’t help but laugh at that, resting his head against Stan’s shoulder. “I don’t think Newson and Crampelter want to hang around with them.”

“Then maybe they’ll come to their senses.” Stan’s fingers find their way into Ford’s hair again, reaching in to massage his scalp gently. “I wish they had been smarter than this, Ford.”

“Me too.”

But as he rests against Stan, Ford is glad his primary sanctuary against the world is still intact.


	14. Meager Earnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Gloryhole action.
> 
> Warnings: Contains prostitution.

When Ford returned from the portal, he was carrying six different kinds of money from other dimensions with him. He eventually shows them all to Stan.

“Are these a lot of money or little?” Stan asks, examining a pouch of dust. He’s taking care not to spill it on the table, which makes Ford smile.

“They’re sufficient amounts.” Ford had learned early on that it wasn’t good to carry too much money with you; it made you a more tempting target to robbers and if the next dimension didn’t use the same currency you were stuck with a load of nothing. Sometimes theft was easier than trying to handle any kind of money at all, too.

Naturally, the problem with stealing was that it could sometimes backfire on you.

“A sufficient amount of dust,” Stan mumbles, narrowing his eyes at the dust before closing the pouch. He looks at the other currencies spread out before him, tapping his fingers against the table.

“How did you earn these?” Stan asks as he reaches for a set of stone coins, and Ford remembers.

He had been hungry enough to try to steal food; he had been caught. Fortunately, the woman he had tried to rob had been compassionate, and directed him to a place where it was easy to earn quick money. It had been a whorehouse.

“I suppose you can put your mouth to use behind that wall,” the owner of the place had said, and Ford had been stupidly grateful.

He had stayed in that dimension for a week, and every day he had gone behind that wall and sucked off every creature that had stuck its member through the hole. At that point in his life, dignity hadn’t mattered to him anymore; he had been willing to do whatever it took to survive and move on once he was done. He wouldn’t mind telling any of this to Stan if not for one thing.

He remembers none of his customers except for the last one, whose member had been so much like a human cock, who had whispered raspy words of encouragement to him from the other side of the wall. Of course, his mind and body had responded to that familiarity. Of course he had pretended it was Stan.

“Just like you earn any kind of money, Stanley,” he says. “You work for it.”


	15. Banish the Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Obligatory awkward incest dream.

After Weirmageddon, Ford has Stan keep a dream journal.

“It’s to keep an eye out on Bill,” Ford says when Stan asks him about it. “He’s a creature that dwells in the mind, Stan. If he’s still around, he will resurface in your dreams.”

Stan does dream of Bill, several times. But as much as Ford worries about each dream, they are just that; Bill remains gone. But Stan keeps writing the journal, making sure he has an entry for each day even if he has nothing special to report. In fact, he soon starts writing a second journal.

In that journal, he stores the important dreams. That’s where he puts the kisses, the make-out sessions, the straight-up sex; it’s always an anxious moment to work on it, his face turning red all the way to his ears. But it’s a necessary task, even more so than keeping the regular dream journal.

Bill may be gone, but Ford is right: if Stan wants to be happy, there are things he needs to banish from his mind.


	16. What's Always Been There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stancest Bingo Card: http://fishingboatblues.tumblr.com/post/159581735159/okay-here-so-i-made-a-crappy-stancest-bingo-on-the
> 
> Square: Sea Stans fall in love.

In the end, there is no big realization.

Ford never thinks there is something different or special about the way he loves Stan. He just does, a lot, hard. If his heart races faster around Stan, it’s because Stan has evoked strong feelings in him; not because he loses his mind whenever he is around Stan. Loving Stan is normal, it’s a natural part of his life.

All these years, he is fine with that. He loves his brother; that’s enough.

But now, as they settle in their brand new boat together, he wonders. Is it enough, just to love? Should he think of Stan every time he goes to bed, every time he wakes up? Should food and drink taste better to him now that they’re together, will always be?

If the answer is no, what does it mean?

In the past, he would have worried about all of this in secret, until the inevitable blow-up. Now, he talks to Stan.

“Oh geez, Sixer,” Stan says. “You’re such a fool sometimes.”

It’s a reaction that is both unexpected and completely expected from Stan. Ford has to laugh at it, even though he’s confused. “But don’t you feel- slighted?”

Now Stan starts looking a little uncomfortable, his eyes darting away from Ford.

“But that’s how I feel about you, Sixer.” He looks at Ford again, sheepish. “I’ve always loved you. It’s just a fact of life. It’s not a romance novel thing, you know?” Stan laughs a bit, reaching out to wrap his arm around Ford’s shoulders. “Or are you gonna start swooning around me now? Do I need to hold you up all day?”

“Stan, please.” Ford pushes him away, lightly, with a smile. “It’s just that-”

“You’re feeling guilty?” Stan starts shaking his head. “Don’t.”

Ford could argue with Stan about how he deserves some guilt, but Stan doesn’t like wallowing and Ford knows guilt-tripping himself is good for nothing. What has happened in the past is there, it’s history; all they can think of now is the now itself, and all the possible futures.

“Is it enough for you?”

Stan laughs. “It’s always been enough for me, Ford.”

When Ford fails to react, Stan paces up to him, wrapping an arm around him again, holding him tight.

“You know, I didn’t always know. If you loved me, or if you had stopped. But now I know and I know I can trust it.” Stan lifts his hand up to stroke Ford’s cheek, adjusting the glasses that have slipped slightly too low on Ford’s nose. “Do you trust that I love you?”

Ford doesn’t even need to think about it.

“Of course.”

Stan smiles. “Then it’s all right.”

Ford is pulled into a tight hug and he leans into it, wrapping his arms around Stan and pulling him as close as he can. When that doesn’t feel like enough, he slides his hand up into Stan’s hair, gripping him lightly to pull his head back so they can kiss. He finds himself melting against those familiar lips, a soft moan escaping from him as Stan returns the kiss, arms rising around Ford’s neck.

There is never a big realization, but there is understanding; that is good enough for them.


End file.
